Lori Foster - Dash of Peril

Cannon shook his head. She was young, and scared. But she hadn’t really gone hysterical until the end, until those earsplitting gunshots. People watched movies and thought they understood how it would be, but until you found yourself in the middle of a shit-storm, you just didn’t know.

He eased back her dark hair, brushing it behind her shoulders. “You did great.”

She looked down, touched his chest with restless fingers and then snuggled in close again. “I don’t know how I’m ever going to face your friend and that lieutenant.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. They understand, believe me.”

“Everyone else was so brave.”

“And you think you weren’t?” He held out a hand and showed her how badly he trembled. “I was so damned scared it was all I could do to keep it together.”

She put her hand in his and drew it to her cheek. “When they put that kerosene on you—”

“No.” He shook his head, not wanting her to understand. “I was afraid for you.” Shut up, Cannon. But of course he didn’t.

Yvette stared up at him, her eyes so big and wounded, her expression so soft and sweet.

And her mouth...

“When that bastard touched you—” For the love of God, don’t go there. “I wanted to kill him.” He still did. He’d taken great satisfaction in kicking Curtis, but it was Toby he’d wanted.

She gave a rough laugh. “That makes two of us.” Then she shuddered.

Recalling how Toby had manhandled her, the threats he’d enjoyed making, Cannon ran his hands up and down her arms. “Did he hurt you?”

Shaking her head, she said, “Before you got there, he...he kissed me.” She squeezed her eyes shut, her breathing going shallow. “They hurt Grandpa and...and mauled me and made me call the lieutenant....”

Cramping, Cannon wondered if Toby had died. Sure looked that way to him. And good riddance. “He’ll never touch you again.”

“I know.” She drew a broken breath. “But I’ll always remember.”

“No.”

She looked at him again, her gaze pleading. She touched his mouth. “I don’t want to remember him.”

Oh, God. Cannon knew what she was asking, but how could he give in to temptation? Yvette wasn’t herself right now. She was desperate and frightened and she’d always had a heavy-duty infatuation with him.

Plus, he’d be leaving. He didn’t yet know for how long or how far away he’d go. But no way in hell would he be turning down the SBC. It was his long-term dream.

What he felt for Yvette... Well, it was just here and now. It was immediate and hot, but he wouldn’t—couldn’t—let it knock him off course.

“We should join the others.”

“No.” Her breathing accelerated. “I can’t. Not yet.”

“Shhh. It’s okay. They’ve already taken the bastards out of there. I heard them leave.”

“No.” She hugged her arms around herself and started to leave his lap.

Just to escape. Just to flee...but to where?

“Yvette...”

“I can’t go out there! I can’t face all of them. I can’t...can’t stay in this house. I can’t.”

Knowing it was wrong, knowing he should get up and join the others, knowing lust was the very last thing she needed, especially from him, Cannon drew her in close again. “Yes, you can.”

She shook her head.

Holding her close, he stood with her. “Yes.” He was so very aware of her bare legs, of those silky little panties she wore.

Of the way she clung to him.

“Cannon?”

Looking at her was his undoing. Slowly, he leaned down.

To his surprise, she met him halfway.

And when his mouth touched hers, he forgot everything else, all the reasons why it was wrong, the people milling in the other room, the burns on her legs.

He turned his head, gently moving his lips over hers, tasting her uncertainty and her need.

Almost of its own volition, his hand slid down her back.

She wiggled closer, urging him on.

Cupping a hand over her bottom, he felt the insubstantial damp cotton of her panties and the silky, warm flesh beneath.

She made a small sound of surprise and something more. Something out of place for the circumstances. “Cannon...” Knotting a hand in his shirt, she dragged him closer.

It was the knock on the door that brought Cannon back to his senses. What the hell are you doing? He cleared his throat and managed to say, in a mostly normal voice, “Yeah?”

Lieutenant Peterson spoke softly. “Tipton found a dry pair of jeans for Yvette, and a pair of his jogging pants for you. I’m going to leave them right outside the door.”

“Thanks.”

With only the slightest hesitation, the lieutenant added gently, “You both need to come out now. We’ll be waiting.” He heard her retreating footsteps.

Damn, but she was one impressive female. Almost to the point of being intimidating, although she sure didn’t affect Dash that way.

The interruption had helped Cannon to get his head on straight.

Putting some space between their bodies, he looked down at Yvette. Confusion, need and uncertainty all smoldered in her gaze. He smoothed his thumb over her damp bottom lip, and God, more than anything, he wanted to take her mouth again.

But he wasn’t an animal. He was a grown man and up until a few minutes ago, he’d always been honorable.

He opened the door and retrieved the clothes while Yvette stood there in silence. He pulled on the jogging pants, which were a little too loose. Then he knelt and held the jeans for Yvette to step into.

A nice gesture, but dumb as shit since he was now eye-level with parts of her anatomy that he was trying very hard not to think about. “Step in.”

She braced a hand on his shoulder and did just that. He tried not to let the material scrape her raw skin as he eased the jeans up and over her trim hips, then was even fool enough to zip and snap them for her, his knuckles brushing the soft skin of her belly.

When he finished, he smoothed down her shirt, tipped up her chin and said with convincing assurance, “You can.”

To his relief, she nodded, and together they left the room.

Later, Cannon thought, he’d tell her about his news. But not tonight. She already had enough to deal with.

HER FATHER’S CAR was in Dan’s driveway when they reached the house. Margo stared at it, her heart swelling like a melon to lodge in her throat.

But by God, she would do her job. “My father is here.”

“Shit.” Since he was driving, Logan made the decision to pass the house and park around the corner.

Were they conspiring together? The thought hurt. Down deep inside where no one could see, she ached so badly....

In the seat behind her, Reese took in her expression and put a hand on her shoulder. “I still think—”

“Stow it, detective.”

Logan sided with Reese. “You know you should—”

“No.” She would not sit this one out. It didn’t matter what Logan and Reese thought. It didn’t even matter what Dash thought.

Dash.

Even thinking of him weighed her down with guilt.

He hadn’t liked staying on the sidelines, but he wasn’t a cop and he had no place in this. Beyond being tangled in her dysfunctional life, which included work and family, he had his own obligations. His own friends, family, house, business... And so she’d convinced him to go home.

But it had been a concession under duress.

He loved her.

It was going to take time to wrap her mind around that, if in fact he still felt the same way after all the dust settled. That could be days, even weeks.

She was going to be very, very busy for a while.

Not really sneaking, but definitely being unobtrusive, they went together up the street to Dan’s house. Clouds crawled over the sun, making the late afternoon feel more like early evening. A slight breeze stirred the air, ramping up her anxiety.

Wearing a mask of inscrutable nonchalance, she hid the discomfort in her arm, ignored the pain in her jaw from Toby’s slap, and the worse pain in her soul from her father’s deceit.

Reese led the way up the walk to the front door—but then he held up a hand. When Reese drew his weapon, both she and Logan did the same.

Normally, she wouldn’t be armed now, not after shooting Toby. It was protocol for an officer to hand over his firearm under those circumstances. If she’d waited any time at all, she knew she’d be put on leave with all the restrictions applied to an officer shooting.

That’s why she’d insisted on dealing with this right now.

From inside Dan’s house, they could all hear her father’s booming, enraged voice.

Reese sent her a look of inquiry, and she nodded. He tried the doorknob and to their surprise it turned.

As they stepped in, they also heard West speaking. If anything, his quieter voice only sounded more furious than her father’s. Knowing he was there as well sent acid down her throat and into her stomach.

Dan shouted, “It was necessary, God damn you! What would you have me do? Go down for fucking a hooker?”

“Ex-hooker,” West insisted, “and Margo didn’t know anything about your involvement!”

“She was still snooping. She was going to—”

The sound of flesh hitting flesh, followed by a moan, led them to the kitchen. A chair fell. A cup broke.

They stepped into the doorway to see West trying to pull the senior Peterson off Dan Ford.

“I’ll fucking kill you myself!”

West said, “Dad, damn it, stand down.”

Instead, West got shoved back and her father landed another meaty blow on Dan’s chin. “You crossed a fucking line when you went after her.”